Waltz of Shadows: Jurgich
by Wolfzen Skiigh
Summary: This is a little one-shot spoken in a narrative sort of view from my OC Lombax, Gonvücka, otherwise known as Generic. This is mostly about his childhood at 5 years old, when his father left him to his Agorian friend, Jurgich, for weapon training.


Waltz of Shadows

By Nathaniel Schrader

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Jurgich

Date: 1582 CE

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"DAMN YOU TO ETERNAL FIRES! BETRAYER!" the Agorian shouted at another in the arena, coming close to taking his head off with one of his broadswords. The dodging Agorian laughed haughtily.

"Is it by my fault that your son was so weak, Jurgich of Rykan?" The Agorian with black wave tattoos around his eyes, Jurgich, swung at his taunting opponent, smashing the floor he had been moments before with a thunderous crash and flying debris. Jurgich roared, shaking the chains hanging above the arena. One of his opponent's allies jumped from the higher scaffolding, laughing as he came upon the dual wielding Jurgich. In bloody swiftness, one blade impaled the jumping man as the other slit his throat, taking his head off in an eruption of crimson. The man with black tattoos slid the body off and the blades together then apart as he charged his opponent once more.

"YOU WILL DIE, TRAGK!" Jurgich bellowed, swinging his blades in chain succession, missing each stroke with whistling streaks of blood behind. Tragk rolled from danger, laughing as he threw a grenade at his furious rival. The blades sung as Jurigh brandished the blunt side of his right sword against the grenade with a reverse grip, stopping it with a pinging tune as the crowd fell silent. Spinning seamlessly, the left sword came around, bluntly hitting the grenade and returning the grenade to Tragk's person, detonating in his horrified face. Nothing was said with smoke engulfing Tragk, Jurgich panting heavily, bleeding from several wounds across his body, all done from his adversary's quick jabs from his short sword. From the smoke, to Jurgich's enraged reaction, Tragk rose, unscathed.

"EVEN NOW YOU DISHONOR YOURSELF, IN THIS MATCH OF REDEPMTION!" Jurgich roared over the chuckling Tragk, the cheating Agorian disabling his illegal shield as a force field fell around him.

"TRAGK OF AGORIOS X!" a voice boomed in the arena, louder than the angered audience. "YOU HAVE PROVEN, ONCE MORE, YOU ARE UTTERLY UNFORGIVABLE!"

"Why thank you, my liege," Tragk replied snidely.

"YOU ARE TO BE EXECUTED ACCORDING TO THE ANCEINT TRADITION OF THE FIRST WARRIOR OF FIRST AGORIOS!"

"What a pleasure!" Tragk said, unshaken. Jurgich howled in rage, charging the smart mouth Agorian.

"JURGICH, CEASE YOUR ATTACK!" the voice commanded, making the charging warrior come to a halt. "HE HAS INSULTED US ALL AND IS BOUND TO PUBLIC EXECUTION! LEAVE HIM BE ACCORDING TO OUR CODE, HONORABLE ONE!"

"HE KILLED MY SON, MY LIEGE! LET ME WRING HIS FILTHY NECK!"

"YOU ARE DENIED, HONORABLE ONE. TAKE YOUR LEAVE, NOW!" Jurgich looked at the loudspeaker hanging above the war-torn arena, then to a smiling Tragk. The tattooed man screamed in red rage, smashing his swords into the ground and leaving, the titanium blades singing in vibrating unison as they shook.

"REPORT TO PRISON FLOOR SEVEN, TRAGK OF AGORIOS X!" Tragk looked up at the loudspeakers, not moving his head.

"Of course, my liege."

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Blood trickled off in waves of hot water, the melancholy of a warrior beating in upset storms of emotion. To sorrow… to rage… to empty… to beat songs of regret and loss, this is what his heart did. Fair women cleansed the man, tending to wounds tenderly as steaming water relaxed worn muscle… but none of it relaxed his broken heart.

"Jurgich." The women gasped around him in surprise, though the warrior did not turn. He knew who it was.

"Leave us," the Agorian asked, not forcibly or demanding. The women nodded and left quickly, leaving the intruder and the warrior alone. The man in a Red jacket walked behind the Agorian, taking out a small knife.

"I have nothing to say, except that I am sorry," the intruder said quietly.

"Thank you, my friend," the warrior said in similar volume. Slowly, the intruder raised his knife to the back of the Agorian's neck.

"You're falling apart at the seams, friend," the Red intruder said as he cut an unfinished stitch, removing the excess thread. The Agorian laughed, reaching up and behind him, patting the intruder on his metal, spiked shoulder.

"It's good to hear your voice, Lord Red." The intruder chuckled. Walking around the rim of the stone tub, he sat in front of the Agorian.

"Call me Casctis, you buffoon," the Lombax pirate said with a smile.

"Please, join me," the Agorian kindly invited. The Lombax nodded and stripped himself of clothing, neatly placing his articles on a stool and leaning his swords against them. A golden pendent hung from his neck, hidden in a tuff of red fur, surrounded by the naturally elaborate black stripes and marks of the well-toned and fit Pirate. The Lombax gracefully sank into the water, sitting cross legged across from the also bare Agorian. The warrior nodded.

"It is good to know that you are still not afraid to sit naked with another man," the Agorian approved.

"Tis' nothing to fear, not when one is aware of how trivial fear is," the Red Lombax responded curtly. Another nod came from the Agorian.

"And it is good to hear your wisdom again, brother. How have you been? I have heard much of… some exploits on your part."

"I didn't care for the building. I thought a historical ruin would be more fitting to the personalities of the lying politicians that built it. At least give them an idea of their future."

"Ha ha! Brilliant my brother!" the Agorian cheered. "To teach the lesson of hubris, oh how wonderfully my mind creates the scene of ruin!"

"It was spectacular, I'll admit. It was a lot of fun."

"I saw! The blackened land will mark your glory and your leadership!"

"Thank you," Casctis said, smiling kindly. His face shifted to a slight expression of apathy mixed with interest as he slid through the tub's water, sitting next to the Agorian, touching a wound on his arm. The warrior held out his arm as the Lombax took a recently used suture kit in hand, gingerly and carefully stitching up the flesh wound. "How I envy your kind."

"Why is this?" the Agorian asked.

"Perhaps envy is not the word. Appreciate. That is it. I appreciate your kind." The Agorian growled curiously in perplexed reaction. "Beautiful strength, simple, straightforward; the Lombax could learn from you."

"What troubles you, friend? You speak not of these things unless your mind is clouded…" the Agorian questioned softly. The Lombax said nothing for a minute, cutting the thread and placing the kit on the side of the tub. Water flowed through the gold faucets into the pool, moving the rosy water through to the bottom of the basin and out the drain, replacing it with crystal clear warmth. The simple marble-brick room was laid with gold design, a king's repose and sanctuary with decorum on ceiling and floor, mosaic designs tiled with lapis and emerald, rubies and diamonds, sapphires and onyx. To Jurgich, the man with black wave tattoos, it was simply a bathroom, a part of his quarters that served purpose, not impression. He cared not, but, for his friend, this Lombax Pirate Lord, his dearest Red, he thought they fit him evermore.

"It is my son," the Lombax admitted finally, working on getting a knotted muscle in the Agorian's arm. A deep growl sounded from the warrior's throat.

"Is the Code what bothers you?" The Lombax, once more, hesitated, moving on to massaging the Agorian's hand.

"Yes. The Code, sworn and blood-crossed. The one I have broken." The Agorian replied not, only taking the Lombaxe's arms in hand. Their eyes met, an eternity of quiet passing between them.

"Do not live in a future that has not yet happened, where choices have grown into consequence. Live in the now, with him. Guide him. Love him. Regret nothing. Brother, live as you would live, and let him live as he shall. Your son is your future. Live with him, not for him." The Lombaxe's eyes closed.

"Do not make your words break me, brother. I wish not to cry in front of you."

"Tis' not a man's folly that he can cry, but a man's wisdom, an understanding of life and all that can be lost to its seas." Though still in his stance, tears streamed from the Lombaxe's eyes.

"My direction is lost, dear brother," Casctis whispered out. The Agorian pulled the Lombax to his chest, embracing him.

"As is mine, dear brother. As is mine." Through closed eyes the Agorian shed tears in semblance, sorrowful mind heavy with grief for his lost son, his cheated son.

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"So… an Agorian trained you in dual-sword combat?" Ether asked.

"Ja. Jurgeech the Vise, as he vas later known as," Gonvücka clarified. Ether sat cross-legged on their couch, looking up to the metal domed ceiling.

"Makes sense, considering how vicious your style is," Ether added.

"I never have heard you complaining about eet," Gonvücka prodded promiscuously. Ether's eyes looked down to Gonvücka, smiling.

"I doubt I could. Too tied up usually."

"Ja, vell you are usually going down on mine-."

"Anyway, how'd that happen?" Ether interrupted, grinning with a slight blush and shaking, embarrassed ears. Gonvücka lifted and lowered his eyebrows, then looked up, thinking.

"Vell, I vas five, and mine father vas veeseeting friend of hees, who vas eenceedentally Jurgeech the Vise."

"So it's pronounced 'Jur-reeck?'" Ether asked.

"Ja. Kinda veird, but Agorian's are cool like that."

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"It is a pleasure to meet you, young Gonvücka," Jurgich said, extending his hand to shake the little Lombaxe's as he bent down to meet the tiny Pirate. The little red Lombax with a patch of black fur on his left eye, and only his left, was shy, slowly extending his hand. He had not met an Agorian in person before, and… they were much bigger in person. The fifteen foot tall Agorian took the hand about three times smaller than his own and shook in nicely. The two-foot-three Pirate smiled meekly. "I'm Jurgich, little one. Your father tells me you know how to handle a blade."

"Maybe… small von. Not beeg von," the Lombax slowly admitted. The Agorian chuckled, looking up at Casctis.

"I appreciate this more than you know, Jurgich," the Pirate Lord said, a slight sample of happiness beaming from him.

"I taught you, brother. It is only fair to teach your son, too. I think it would be worth the time." Casctis nodded appreciatively to his friend, the kneeled on one leg to meet his son.

"Here begins your journey, Gonvücka, the start of adventures to come. Learn well and respect your teacher." The little Red Lombax politely nodded.

"Ja, father," the child said in young voice, full of eagerness. His father smiled.

"I will come when you are done." Though he would not admit it, in this first occasion of separation from his son, his first endeavor on his own… the Pirate Lord was overwhelmed with worry and sadness in leaving… but so proudly, his heart beat, that it did not matter what he felt. His son was glorious, and he must leave the nest, so his heart said. Hugging his son, then standing and turning, the Pirate Lord began to leave. Gonvücka's mind flurried with concern of being left alone, so saw the Agorian. Leaning over quietly, he whispered in the boy's ear.

"Speak your heart." Gonvücka listened.

"Father!" Stopping mid-stride, Casctis stopped, turning back. The young boy hesitated, then smiled. "I love you, dearest father!" the boy announced to his flustered father. The Pirate Lord smiled back.

"I love you, dearest son. I will see you soon." Gonvücka nodded hastily, his father returning the gesture as he turned around once more, heart warmed. Gonvücka watched as his father boarded his personal ship and left the planet, flying and vanishing into the blue yonder sky. With father out of sight, Gonvücka turned to Jurgich, the Agorian ruffling his hair and getting a warm giggle from the boy.

"We'll make a swordsman out of you yet, Gonvücka." The boy said nothing, but smiled.

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"Not quite. You're trying too hard, young one," Jurgich said, coming out of stance to assist the awkwardly posed Gonvücka, whose face looked confused and stressed. He lowered his left arm and let his right fall limp, coming out of pose. "You're putting too much effort into looking like me, but not feeing the style, the form. You must try again." The Agorian paused, looking at the disheartened boy. "But… we will take a break. You have done well today, and a warrior cannot fight if doubt occupies the space where tactic should be."

"I do not doubt, Master Jurgeech!" Gonvücka said worriedly.

"Oh? Then what troubles you?" The boy stopped, only to stand, looking at the ground. The Agorian came over, kneeling to the young man.

"Admitting what is on your mind is not a shame, but a sign of strength. Tell me what has hold in your thoughts," the Agorian soothed sagely. Gonvücka's eyes welled up.

"I-I…"

"Yes?"

"I-I meess mine father… and I meess mine mother…"

"Oh child! Why is this?" the Agorian asked loudly but gaily. The Lombax boy cried.

"Be-because I just d-do!" little Gonvücka choked out, sobbing. The Agorian let out a belly laugh and picked up the boy from under his arms.

"Do not cry! Your family is fine, and you are fine, too!" Gonvücka stopped sobbing for a moment, eyes wet. "Your heart is big, young Gonvücka… how good it is to know of your immense loyalty to kin," Jurgich comforted. The Lombax began to sob again, but stopped as he was embraced by his master. "Do not cry, child. Ease your heart." The emotional youngling's head, pressed against the man's huge chest, found comfort in his warmth, resting his eyes, listening to a heartbeat louder than anything he had ever heard in his life. For what reason, at this age, the boy did not understand his affiliation to the same sex, but this is where it began.

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"You had a crush on your teacher?" Ether asked after Gonvücka finished his thought. The pirate hesitated.

"Vell ja. I have alvays had theeng for older men." Ether raised an eyebrow.

"But… I'm younger than you."

"I mean een dark, keenky sort of vay." Ether laughed.

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"Nein… I have never… done that," Gonvücka said slowly, intimidated and terrified, embarrassed and nervous.

"Ha ha! Just like your father, you know that?" Jurgich said, sitting in the basin of water, naked. "He was so proud that he wouldn't dare do it, either, not until he lost a bet on one of my matches."

"Vhy vould you bet on… thees?"

"Because it's part of being fearless, lad! You must not fear insecurities or judgment!" Gonvücka stared at the waters of the tub, entirely happy with the idea of staying covered. He slowly looked up to the Agorian's face.

"Mine… father ees okay veeth thees?"

"He does it without me asking," Jurgich responded. Gonvücka hesitated. Slowly, he took off his shirt and, watching Jurgich, took off his dueling pants. Jurgich rotated his hand, pushing him on. Gonvücka proceeded to remove his briefs, exposing his whole self. Jurgich nodded, noting the Lombaxe's lack of markings below his neck. "Very good, and impressive! Your father would never have done that, not until he lost our bet, hehe." Gonvücka laughed slightly, trying to sink into the water quickly, but only ending up splashing some water out of the tub.

"So… You alvays take just baths?" the little pirate asked.

"Of course… I prefer them to showers. Baths allow thinking, clearness of thought." Gonvücka didn't reply, only looking into the water, avoiding looking at the general area around Jurgich. The idea made sense, though, he admitted to himself.

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A star fell from the sky that night, Gonvücka saw. Sitting by his lonesome, the stars his only company upon the balcony several dozen stories off the ground, the Lombax gazed up at the velvet beyond, sprinkled with shining diamond shards. He had never seen the sky so clearly at night before. Rykan had too thick of an atmosphere, and it was always too bright. Agorios X was perfect, though… The stadium lights were turned off around midnight, even the huge dome covering the main arena darkly quiet.

"May I join you?" a curious voice asked from behind a startled Gonvücka. He turned quickly, letting out a sigh as his eyes fell upon Jurgich.

"Ja, I don't mind, Gonvücka said, laughing a bit. The Agorian sat down next to Gonvücka, legs dangling from the edge. Together, they sat silently, looking up at the stars. Jurgich glanced down at the little Pirate child. A glint reflected in the boy's patched eye. How odd that a Lombax had a marking in only one part and not another… he had not seen that very often. Jurgich coughed a little, getting the Lombaxe's attention.

"I have been wondering, Gonvücka… but what do you know of your father?" The Lombaxe's expression was surprised.

"Of mine father?"

"Yes… What do you know about him?" The Lombax thought for a moment, looking at the ground.

"Vell… he eeze Dread Red, von Pirate Lord of ten," Gonvücka answered, looking back up to Jurgich with a smile. The Agorian blinked.

"So… he's told you a fair sum of information?"

"Ja," Gonvücka replied contently, nodding. The Agorian let out a soft chuckle.

"He has never been subtle," the Agorian stated, looking out across the prairies dedicated to growing food. Stretching fields of wheat dominated the left horizon, whilst produce took the right, the blackness giving way to the small light beacons within the plantations like still fireflies declaring home.

"He has… told me a leettle about you, too," Gonvücka mentioned, Jurgich turning to look at him again.

"Really now?"

"Ja… He told me about your fame as von of the best Agorian gladiators of Agorios, and how you vere born on Rykan. He… told me I should also be sorry." The Lombaxe's face fell as he said the words, not looking at Jurgich. The Agorian's face sank alongside the child's.

"It's nothing you should worry yourself over, child… What happened is not something someone your age should have to think about." Gonvücka continued to look elsewhere.

"Okay," the Lombax said quietly, holding his hands together in his waist. He crossed his legs and sat with his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. Though death was nothing new to the little pirate, the idea of death being bad had never been brought up often. His father would sometimes come home in a sulkier mood than normal, saying with quiet words to his wife of the loss of crew or force. These are things his father never spoke of to Gonvücka, and now the child questioned the value of life to himself. The idea of his parents dying ran through his fragile mind, and tears streamed from his eyes as he became flustered with emotional upheaval. The Lombax stood to leave, only to be grabbed by the arm by his Agorian mentor.

"Gonvücka… do not cry." Despite his advice, the Agorian's eyes became damp and let loose sorrow. The child stopped crying when he saw the warrior's distress, confused by the sight he was beholding. The grasp on the Lombax loosened, Jurgich's hand pulling away. The boy reached out and took the Agorian's hand, looking at his master. The Agorian laughed softly, smiling and quickly wiping his eyes as he took the Lombax into his lap, hoisting the fuzzy pirate up and into folded legs. The warmth from the gladiator was home to Gonvücka, the child sitting up against his master's belly, utterly tiny in comparison to Jurgich.

"Death is not something to be sad about, Gonvücka," Jurgich said quietly to his apprentice. The Lombax looked up to the Agorian.

"Vhy are you sad, then?" Anger rose inside the warrior, his face tensing, something the Lombax had not seen in his master.

"Because he was wrongly taken from me," the Agorian murmured in a growl, rage seething from within him. He closed his eyes, taking a breath.

"Your son, Master Jurgich?" The Agorian didn't move, quiet.

"Yes," he finally said, sadness once again leaking from his closed eyes. The Lombax child cried in reaction, putting his arms as far around the gladiator as he could manage. An arm came to Gonvücka's back, holding him against Jurgich, then a second.

Silently, sadly, their grieving, busy hearts beat together, Master and Apprentice.

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Tragk had had a track record of lies and deceit, the Lombax found. Busily, Gonvücka tracked down the Agorian's competitors, interviewing each Agorian he could find that knew of the dishonorable man. A month had passed, and Gonvücka already knew every location within the Arena Grounds. Further investigation revealed Tragk had placed land mines in the arena before one match, and then installed trap doors the next. The illegal operations Tragk had done were all covered by his defense, a Terachnoid with money on mind and willing to manage the Agorian's career, defending him with loopholes and gross amounts of legal technicalities.

Gonvücka finally arrived to this location, Tragk's room. Knocking was for people that deserved knocking, however. He opened the door, finding a room not unlike Jurgich's, covered in valuables and lots of gaudy garbage. Gonvücka always liked Jugich's simple collection of mementos, from blades and skulls to armor and gifts from his fans, but Tragk had decorated these quarters with pictures of famous people and their signatures. Alongside these photos were sculptures of vibrant colors and abstract value, one shaped like a twisted potato with wires coming off of it, holding up sheets of glass. Gonvücka took the sculpture in hand. Walking to a door marked as "Evlan Drits," the name he knew as the Agorian's manager, he knocked four times, then again, just to indicate his hurry.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" a busy, high pitched voice responded. Gonvücka waited patiently. The door creaked open a little, then fully as a Terachnoid with giant black eyebrows revealed himself, looking irate. "You a fan, ki-," the last word sprayed out of the man with a spurt of blood gushing from his head as Gonvücka came down on him with the sculpture. Another hit landed right between the man's eyes, his mouth dripping blood as the art piece came to the side of his head, knocking his body against the doorframe. Gonvücka disposed of the sculpture, glad to be done with the awful artwork, and took the Terachnoid by his cranial straps, dragging the man's limp body across the room and leaving a streak of blood from the door to the waiting couch in the room, also terribly designed with white and plaid. Gonvücka hoisted the drooling man onto the couch, taking the nylon rope he had gotten at the Arena's gift store and tying the man's arms and legs together, with another ring binding the man's torso to the couch.

Delicately, Gonvücka lifted the man's head up, checking his eyes. Thankfully, he hadn't passed out. Strolling casually to the bathroom in the manager's room and retrieving a champagne bucket, Gonvücka filled it with scalding hot water and threw it upon the man, getting a horrific scream of agonizing pain in return. Gonvücka laughed.

"Oh, goody, you are avake. I thzought you might be passing on." The Terachnoid looked around the room frantically, one of his green eyes now lazy and bleeding. He mumbled, losing his tongue as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Gonvücka slapped the man, getting his attention.

"Vhere ees Tragk?" Gonvücka demanded solidly, quietly. The Terachnoid shook his head, coughing blood. Gonvücka took one of the Terachnoid's shoulder's in hand, ripping it out of place at its critical joining and tearing muscle, the manager howling in a blood curtling scream, sobbing.

"VHERE EES HE?" Gonvücka shouted, holding a knife up to the man's throat.

"I…Detention level… seven… but you can't get down the-," the man's words were ceased by vomit spewing from his mouth, Gonvücka scathingly wiping it off his face.

"How do I geet down there?" the pirate child demanded, pressing the knife into Evlan's throat. The man groveled, sobbing.

"I-you need clearance… take my c-card, it's on my d-dresser, just don't kill me, please!" Gonvücka smiled.

"Thank you," he said, patting the Terachnoid on the head.

"Th-thank yo-," the Terachnoid began to say before Gonvücka slit his throat.

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Gonvücka whistled a merry tune, cleaning his blade with his care cloth and putting it back in its sheath as he took an elevator down to the bowels of the arena. He looked over the bloodied, laminated card with the late Evlan's face on it, wiping it off a bit as the elevator stuck the fifth basement. He thought to himself, though. What was most fitting? A fiery death? A watery death? Maybe a death that was involved with singing? Oh how his mind raced, vivid dreams of assassination running hotly through his mind. He came out of it as the elevator hummed a happy tone as the doors open, revealing dark hallways and bloodied floor. Gonvücka liked it, reminding him of his father's friend, Locku. Gaily, Gonvücka walked around a skull on the floor and over to a sign. He took notes on direction and began walking down some stairs. Everything here was disproportioned to the Lombax, giant iron doors at least seven times his size bearing down, holding back trapped warriors, all gazing with evil eyes at the Lombax. He met eye contact with a few of the prisoners, winking to them as he walked by, admiring the bloodlust in their glares. They were none of his concern, however; their judgment was not his to deliver.

"Hey… little Lombax…" a deep voice croaked from behind a metal door. Gonvücka stopped, looking up to the window, seeing two eyes scour over him hungrily. "Unlock this door… I have treats for you in here…" the voice coaxed.

"Mother said not to talk veeth strangers…" Gonvücka said to himself, holding up in questioning debate. A moment passed. "But vhat could go wrong?" he asked cheerily, opening the door and entering.

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"You… did what?" Ether asked, a little flabbergasted after hearing what Gonvücka told.

"I valked een, talked veeth heem, agreed to letting heem eat me whole, then gutted heem from eenside-out," Gonvücka answered happily. Ether stared at the pirate.

"Why… did you feel like doing that?"

"Jurgich mentioned somezing about Agorian's never really chewing food, and I thought that vas seelly, so I tested eet. Turned out he vas right!" Ether didn't respond.

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What a fun day, Gonvücka thought! He was getting so much done, and hell, got to see what the inside of an Agorian looked like! Truly a cool story. Wiping some digested gunk off his shoulder along with some bits of intestines that came with him, Gonvücka continued down some stairs, arriving at the door he so desired. With a happy little knocking Gonvücka rapped at the metal door. The sound of a man heaving himself up resounded from within, a sly voice questioning the knocking.

"Yes?" the voice asked. The Agorian within looked around, then down. He saw a Lombax with a big yellow grin smiling up at him, covered in slime with matted hair and rabid demeanor. The Agorian hesitated.

"What are you doing down here?" he asked. Gonvücka chuckled, opening the door. The Agorian stepped back and away, an unknown terror washing over him as the Lombax entered, brandishing two short swords, already dripping in crimson. The broken light within the room flickered, its harsh light reflecting a solid red glare from the Lombax, sharp shadows twisting around him from the outside lighting. Teeth clenched, Gonvücka smiled, his pupils slitting with raging pleasure. Gonvücka kicked the metal door shut with a loud slam, beginning his approach to the Agorian wearing only a loincloth. The warrior backed up further until his was against a wall, absolute terror spilling into is black heart.

"You're… an assassin?"

"Nein. I am just helping a friend ees all," Gonvücka growled, grin spreading further. In a swift movement of redemption, Tragk furiously made an attempt to run, only to fall as the Lombaxe's right blade slid through his calf, spraying red all over the Red Pirate as the Agorian yelled in agony. The warrior rolled away, standing back into a running position as he limped away, trying to run around the Lombax. This came to a stop as Gonvücka plunged his reversely handed right blade into the Agorian's side, then impaled his left sword up through the Agorian's armpit, coming out around the neck as a gurgle of blood poured from the traitorous man's mouth. On the floor and gagging on blood, the man desperately clawed at the Lombax, only irritating the boy as the right blade came rushing through the Agorian's wrist, the other cutting off his hand entirely. Another quick jab and the Agorian was missing an eye, followed by another and leaving the Agorian blind. The blood dripped off of Gonvücka in streams now, every bit of him wet with dripping, soggy red. The Lombax carefully wiped some of the blood off his brow, laughing. Gurgling horror escaped in wet hacking as the Agorian tried to speak, gasps of red air choking his lungs.

"I'm very sorry, Tragk, really," Gonvücka quietly said, flicking a bit of blood off his blade into his face. "But I don't care much for deeshonorable svine. Vhat you have done…" Gonvücka stated, raising his right blade high above him, the blind Agorian crying in terror as the other sword gingerly ran across his neck, staying in place. "Ees nothzing you can be forgeeven of. You have assasseenated a boy, a beegeening varrior een hees sleep, and for vhat?" Tragk screamed out. "NOTHZING!" The words echoed inside the cell and through the halls, the howling of the judged becoming silent.

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No one stopped the blood-soaked child, the one carrying a head throughout the Arena Grounds, eyes missing and tongue hanging out. No one tried to question the boy with a smile on his face as blood trailed behind him, bits of throat and trachea falling out from within the bodiless head. No one said anything as they watched him walk along, singing a song to himself in Lombax tongue.

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"So… what did Jurgich say?" Ether asked.

"He vas… quiet at first. But I had not broken any rules, especially seence I vas not a gladiator. Keeling eemprisoned combatants vas perfectly allowed eef von could do eet, but supporters lost the money put eento them so they deed not do that. Von had to vait unteel they vere free for refund, but nobody bet on Tragk, so… ja. Jurgich vas… very happy once I had done thees. I had never seen a man so happy before… vell, not at least unteel mine father had heard of eet. He vas threeled," Gonvücka said, laughing a bit.

"And… your training? It just stopped there?"

"Nein, I conteenued, and I joined een on arena combat. They vouldn't let me handle theengs beeger than mineself, since Tragk vas considered unarmed, but I had lots of fun there."

"I'm sure you did," Ether said, chuckling. "But… you didn't get into trouble for killing Tragk's manager?"

"Nein. Eet vas conseedered tying up loose ends that the Agorians deedn't have to deal veeth. They vere rather happy about thees. For righteous execution, they gave me beeg bronze statue on lawn veeth me holding Tragk's head, saying on plague: "Honor should be Honored." Basically beeg varning sign to others, but I liked eet. Very flattering." Ether waited a moment, simply smiling.

"Well… that's certainly a very interesting tale, Captain." Gonvücka laughed and stood, immediately standing and sitting next to Ether, wrapping his arm around the monochrome Lombax and pulling him in close. Ether blushed under his fur as the pirate pecked his nose with a kiss, staying close to Ether and holding his hand.

"Call me Red, seelly pants."


End file.
